Don't Let The Door Hit Your A$% On The Way Out

See you, January. But not for another 11 months. And don't try coming back any sooner, because you're not so much welcome here. And you can take March with you (February, not so bad.. so much red and pink!) Why was I born in the most depressing month of the year? I will tell you why. Because I, just like the girl in that great Hallmark movie "The Girl Who Spelled Freedom", fought against great odds. I rose up from the depths of January. I said NO to Seasonal Affective Disorder, I trudged through the snowdrifts to get to school (uphill, both ways) and I MADE something of myself. And let that be a lesson to you.

Anyways, it's almost February, and I get to change my Kzoo Calendar to a new print, which is fun anyhow.

Dear Oakland Drive residents:
Shovel your damn sidewalks. Not only can I not afford a house on your lovely tree-lined streets, now I can't even run on your sidewalks? Unacceptable.

No snow day today. More snow. It's snowing now. But lets not kid ourselves. Someone will bust out their snowmobile and come pick me up before I get the day off of work.

If, for any reason, I became famous and someone decided to excerpt my blog for a book, this entry would appear in Laura: The Bitter Years

And now I sleep.

Actually, I sleep in a second. First, this story. You know how you can go online and get those ecards? You know how most people only use them when they realize at the last second that they've forgotten someone's birthday? Not so much my dad. My dad bought a subscription to an ecard service and I get at least one ecard a day. Some memorable ecard occasions include Thomas Crapper Day (inventor of the toilet), National Beer Can Day and National Hit-Your-Coworker-With-A-Rubberband Day. Today I get one for National Twist Off Bottle Cap Day, and the message says "Your mom and I are celebrating by getting loaded". Does anyone else see the mentally scarring effects of this?